


The Third Most Badass Wizard in the Multiverse

by soullistrations



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, adventures in oz, hand massages, rated t for cursing and brief description of a knife wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullistrations/pseuds/soullistrations
Summary: A moment on the road as Charlie and Dorothy travel west through Oz.
Relationships: Dorothy Baum/Charlie Bradbury
Kudos: 5





	The Third Most Badass Wizard in the Multiverse

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this six or seven years ago, and haven't watched the show since mid-season 9 so I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with whatever's happening on spn nowadays. But I found it this morning and still liked it, so I thought I'd share.

“Crap shit crappity Jean Luc _fuckin'_ Picard on a cracker. Shit!” Charlie muttered a string of curses, some more intelligible than others, through gritted teeth as she lifted her arm above her head, trying to stop the bleeding.

Dorothy knelt in front of her and opened her sack. “Are you done?” she said. 

Charlie shook her head. “Fffffrackin’ flying monkeys,” she hissed. “Those turds went straight for my sword hand!” 

“Maybe if you’d spent more effort on your swordplay than your warcry, they wouldn’t have had such an easy time of it.” Dorothy smirked, a tight curving of her lips betrayed by the worry in her eyes, and pulled a small green bottle and some bandages out of her bag. “What was it again? ‘You shall not pass’?”

“Hey, you're not allowed to naysay Gandalf. He’s—he’s the most badass wizard out— _fuck_!” Charlie bit off another curse as Dorothy took her wrist and lowered the injured arm to her lap. Charlie had already taken off her wristguard with one shaking hand, and Dorothy finished the job, ripping Charlie’s sleeve off at the elbow and using the fabric to mop up most of the blood covering the redhead’s forearm.

Charlie grimaced weakly at the pressure, and Dorothy grimaced for an entirely different reason as she studied the cut. Already, candy-pink tendrils were snaking away from the cut as the poppy extract from the monkey’s artificial claws worked its way into Charlie’s bloodstream. She was going to have to move quickly.

She unscrewed the green glass bottle and pulled out an eyedropper, squeezing a few drops of the liquid within onto the cut that stretched almost to Charlie’s elbow. The liquid hit Charlie’s skin with a hiss, and she squirmed a bit, but Dorothy held her arm firm, rubbing her thumb in circles over Charlie’s wrist until the sickly pink tinge disappeared from her skin. Then she pulled a small plant from the ground nearby and started to brush it up and down the cut. “You know,” Dorothy said, “you’re lucky we’re near the Forest of Burzee. These flowers don’t grow anywhere else in Oz. Of course,” she continued, her tone deliberately light, “you’d probably be even luckier on Earth—”

“Stop it,” Charlie cut in. “I made my choice.”

“I invited you.”

“And I made my choice. I’d take fairies and flying monkeys any day of the week.”

Dorothy huffed a laugh. “I suppose I can’t argue with you there.” She picked up the bandages and started to wrap them around Charlie’s arm.

Charlie hissed a bit, but then continued, “And, well, there’s also the fact that the most badass wizard in the universe lives here.”

“I thought Gandalf had that title,” Dorothy said, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine, second most badass.”

“I’m honored.”

“I was _talking_ about The Great and Powerful Oz.”

Dorothy couldn’t hold back her laugh this time. She tied off the bandage and then helped Charlie to her feet. “Well then. Let’s go see your wizard in shining armor.” With that, the two set off toward the west.

They had intended to stay the night with Gilda, but the fight with the monkeys set their schedule back quite a bit. When the sunlight rippling through the trees started to change from green and gold to auburn and grey, Dorothy made an executive decision. “Let’s stop for the night.”

Charlie looked only too happy to agree. She had been dragging her feet for the last mile, her injured arm clutched against her chest and her paler-than-usual face set toward the ground. Still, she insisted on gathering firewood. Dorothy went on her own mission, coaxing some fruit from the nearby trees for their dinner.

By the time her negotiations were done and she made it back to the campsite, arms full of apples, there was already a fire crackling and Charlie was huddled nearby, staring at her hands.

“Reading your future?” Dorothy quipped. Charlie didn’t even blink. Taking a step closer, Dorothy tried again. “Charlie?”

This time Charlie shook herself and looked up at her companion. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, I just–” she cut off and frowned down at her injured arm. “My fingers won’t uncurl,” she said quietly.

Dorothy placed the fruit by the fire and then sat down next to Charlie, leaning over to study the offending hand. Sure enough, her fingers were clenched, almost claw-like, in her lap.

“Do you think it got a tendon?” Charlie asked, her voice taking on a plaintive edge. Dorothy didn’t answer, instead reaching across the space between them to take Charlie’s hand into her own lap. Wordlessly, she started to rub her thumb into the center of Charlie’s palm, before working downward to lightly probe at her wrist.

“Nothing feels out of place,” she said at last. “And even if there was something, Gilda could fix it. Right?” Charlie nodded absently in the corner of her vision, but Dorothy kept her eyes trained on the hand in front of her. Gently, she took Charlie’s pinky between two of her fingers, stroking it until it unclenched and straightened slightly. She moved on to the ring finger, and then the middle. As she started on the pointer finger, Charlie laid her head on her shoulder with a contented sigh.

Dorothy could feel Charlie’s breathing evening out slightly, but she finished massaging her pointer finger and moved on to the thumb, gently rubbing the kinks out of it until Charlie’s hand looked relaxed and natural in the firelight. Her work done, she traced circles into Charlie’s palm and listened to her slow breathing.

Charlie had such delicate hands, Dorothy considered. They were calloused, worn in places from adventuring and swordfighting, but they were still so…dextrous. So good with the detail work. Dorothy supposed it came from a lifetime of coding, working with computers more complex than she could dream of. Or maybe that was just Charlie. Good with all the little things.

Absently, she brought the injured hand to her mouth and lightly kissed Charlie’s fingertips, one by one. Charlie stirred slightly, and Dorothy could feel the redhead’s eyes fluttering to halfmast on her shoulder.

“You’re such a sap,” Charlie muttered sleepily. Dorothy just smiled and kissed the top of her head with a loud smacking sound. Charlie laughed, a sleepy shift that rolled through her body, but she reached out with her good hand and intertwined her fingers with Dorothy’s.


End file.
